Payback
by TheDarkFlygon
Summary: Yusaku is no doctor, but he can tell when his friends are not doing well; and this day is no exception.


A somewhat timid "Kusanagi?" echoed through the Café Nagi food truck, unanswered.

Yusaku wasn't used to calling people out. In fact, he heavily disliked it, because noisy people like Shima really weren't his cup of tea. He had never been a loud guy, preferring to stay calm and spare his words to useful topics and remarks. Alas, this was one of these cases where he had to do so, to use his voice for something in real life, and yet it was all in vain because, as it stood, he got no answer to his name-calling. Ah, may as well just enter the truck's hidden space and do something with his hands.

Why was he visiting Kusanagi? He didn't really know.

Honestly, Yusaku just felt like it, as surprising as he was to realize this. He simply wanted to have a casual conversation with his friend, one-on-one, spend time with him on days where Jin paid visits to other Lost Incident victims like the both of them and where Ai was paying a visit to Cyberse with Linkuriboh. It wasn't even that Yusaku minded being alone, as he was used to it and enjoying tranquillity from time to time. No, he just really… felt like it. Felt like going out of his place, going to the park and assist Kusanagi in cooking some hotdogs (while secretly hoping few people would show up so he could have a nice conversation that wasn't about saving the world from imminent doom.

It was stupid to think he needed a reason to visit a friend, considering Takeru didn't feel the need to ask himself if he wanted to visit his childhood friend back in his hometown or Ai didn't have to wonder for hours on end why he should see the other Ignes once a week. They just wanted to do so, and he just wanted to spend time with Kusanagi. Nothing big, nothing philosophical, wasn't that deep.

His footsteps resonated against the metal floor of the truck, not unlike what he was used to. He had spent so much time in this place in the last year or so that it had practically become his secondary home, if not where he truly felt right: isolated from the noise of the world, safe from dangers, comfortable enough for him to feel like he could sleep in there and wake up healed from an ailment. (Not that he hadn't lived through this… No, Kusanagi had never forced him to stay here when he had been sick, no…).

Perhaps that was his sense of security being proven wrong that disturbed him the most when he actually stumbled upon his friend, in the back of the truck.

The eerie silence of computer white noise and no typing was nothing short of weird to him, but weirdness wasn't out of his habits. Plausible explanations: Kusanagi was away, he was doing something else and had left his machinery turned on, he had fallen asleep on his keyboard and was otherwise fine. The fact Yusaku was even questioning Kusanagi's well-being by trying to brush the question aside was a warning all in itself, but he pressed on to find an answer.

Nothing had truly prepared him – or had striped him down of enough of his certainties to do so in all cases – for what he saw when walking inside this room so familiar, yet so chilling to him.

His friend, on the ground, as if he had fallen from his stool. Panting could be heard. Yusaku's skin crawled and, without realizing half of it, he ran to Kusanagi, kneeling onto the ground. Turning the latter on his back to inspect his face (in case that had some answers to give him), the movement itself wasn't enough to bring him back to consciousness: knowing how much of a light sleeper Kusanagi was, this wasn't normal, at all.

But thing was, Yusaku wasn't a doctor of any sorts, far from it, so guessing what this was seemed downright impossible. However, this didn't mean he didn't have his own idea, at least a general supposition he could make on the situation. The answer, he got it from putting a hand on Kusanagi's forehead, then on his, and it all became clearer than ever… not that it was any good, obviously, but it was _something_.

With all the strength he could muster, he wrapped his shield's (Kusanagi's words, not his) arm around his shoulder and lifted him off the ground, not without struggling in doing so, grunting occasionally. That had never been his forte either, physical effort, but once again, it had to be done. Jin wouldn't be home for a while, especially considering his brother was picking him at the entrance of Miyu's house and that, well… That wasn't going to happen today, it seemed, to the very least.

He didn't know whether to find a bed in the truck near the keyboards and screens worrisome or convenient, but in all cases, it served his purpose perfectly at the moment, like a saviour in a redemption story. Sighing in relief to see it, he didn't hesitate to put Kusanagi inside of it, unsure of what to do with his shoes, until he decided that he could take these off without being spotted or noticed, which made it all fine and dandy.

Sitting nearby (these folded chairs for clients really were convenient), Yusaku was questioning himself and everything he should be doing. Calling a doctor seemed to make the most sense, so despite his anxiety to even pick up a phone and send a call to someone he didn't know, he decided it'd be the best course to take. He made everything precise and clear as day, hoping not to have to find a way to drag him to the nearest hospital on feet: unable to drive, concerned (that… slipped), unsure of what to do, what to make of it anything. No real lie, mostly half-truths and full ones. He wanted everything to be fine, just for once.

As he made that call, his eyes set on something interesting: a thermometer, put near the keyboards. Making sure to avoid making as much noise as possible to keep the other side of the line understandable (which would avoid needing information to be repeated or guessed), he picked it up, cleaned it with a brand-new tissue out of a brand-new packet (from a bundle he had bought when he had caught a cold a while back, he didn't remember having it on him, but it sure was handy to have that on him right now) and gently inserted it inside Kusanagi's mouth (it wasn't weird, right? The situation didn't make it weird, right?).

Once the call was made and over with, a sigh of relief escaping his lips again, he focused on the few questions he had. Why in the world was a thermometer there? He had been there enough to be sure there had never been such a thing on Kusanagi's desk or control panel before today. Well, he had the tiniest idea of why that could have been in the back of his mind, but did he want it to be true? He couldn't really reply "yes" to that question.

A beeping sound got him out of his musings. Almost with impatience, Yusaku picked the thermometer to read the results. Did he expect something higher than 37.9? Yes. Did he expect it to go as high as 39.1? No, not at all. With no real explanation for the phenomenon, he simply took care to gently take off his coat from his shoulder to avoid overheating and left him to sleep it off until the people with a say in the matter arrived. It was going to be a while, wasn't it?

Yusaku had never guessed you could get a fever from overworking, nor would have he thought before Kusanagi had his limits, and even less that you could combine that with other factors while distinguishing that as a cause for a fever. He was outside when the diagnosis happened and, while he payed for it, he'd have never seen that coming. Apparently, he had woken up too, which made Yusaku wonder how he hadn't done so by removing his friend from the floor and putting him into a bed instead. At least, now that he knew, it was going to be fi…

"Yusaku?"

He almost lost his sense of speaking when he saw Kusanagi, the one and only Kusanagi, sitting at his computer, waving at him, a smile on his face despite his cadaveric tone and red stains near his nose and cheeks. It was as if… what had just happened had been a myth. Unbelievable. Even after working together for more than a year, spending most awake moments together or in contact, he still had to face an evidence: Kusanagi was never fully expectable.

"Is there something on my face, for you to grimace that much? C'mon in, I still don't bite!"

Almost creeped out, Yusaku did as he was told and sat down on the second stool, still not fully believing what was in front of his eyes. It was like seeing someone die and be born again, except the death had never been lethal to begin with. He _absolutely_ had no idea what to make of it, no matter how much he told himself that. No reply came from asking someone in a decent condition on fevers anyway.

"Hey, tell me," Kusanagi's voice was lower than usual, perhaps hoarser, "you payed for these guys to come in? That's nice and all, but I know how broke you are, so don't even think of using your own money next time!"

"I… I'm gonna remember that."

"You look like you've just seen a ghost, are you alright, Yusaku?"

That wasn't completely wrong, he supposed. Uncertain of what would be the best reply, or the less worse in this specific case, he kept quiet and looked aside. Not the best way to respond to such a question, for sure, but he didn't have anything else in store or mind.

"I'm fine, what about you?"

Ah, gotcha. (Not really.)

Kusanagi rubbed his temples and coughed in his elbow before replying, which indicated to Yusaku that he hadn't just gone through a weird daydream.

"Ah… Fine too! What's brought you here?"

"I just wanted to, I don't know, spend the day together and… Assist you in serving hotdogs, but it looks like you won't need me for that…"

A smile on the older guy's mouth.

"Haha, (he coughed again), didn't see that one comin'! I appreciate the concern, though… Don't worry for me!"

Frustration was building up in his veins.

"I meant to say, Kusanagi, are you sure you're that fine? I found you on the floor when I arrived here."

His face changed from happy-go-lucky to far more solemn and serious, as if he had just been busted for a crime he had committed and wasn't exactly keen on having to admit to it. He lowered his head, bit his lip, before resurfacing and looking at him eye in the eye… only for Yusaku to notice how his eyes weren't focused.

"So I did pass out, huh… Sorry, Yusaku, but I… won't be available for today."

A coughing fit erupted from Kusanagi's chest, making Yusaku yelp with his name in surprise and concern all the same (no use in denying feeling that now).

"H-hey!" Wait, what did people say in these cases? "Don't overdo it, I'm sure you're supposed to be in bed."

"That ain't half-wrong…" Another small laugh. "Gonna go back to bed, see ya later…"

Yusaku first watched Kusanagi get up from his stool, before tripping on nothing. In a swift move, he jumped from his own seat and caught his shield (still not his words) in his arms, preventing him from hitting the floor face-first.

"You once took care of me when I was sick, so… I guess that's my turn to do that."

Kusanagi only had a whisper for him.

"In a way, yeah… Thank you for bearing with me, even when I'm uselessly moping around…"

Still, the faintest of smirks reached Yusaku's lips.

"I'm only returning a favour back, Kusanagi."


End file.
